


Philanthropy with a Hint of Activism

by Those_Hero_Kids



Series: Activist Batman [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bi Bruce Wayne, Bruce Wayne is an activist, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, everyone is a teenager so far
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:49:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26508502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Those_Hero_Kids/pseuds/Those_Hero_Kids
Summary: So what if Bruce Wayne didn't just beat the shit out of criminals but also helped Gotham in other ways. Here's his starting point.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Ethan Bennett & Bruce Wayne, Harleen Quinzel & Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle & Bruce Wayne, Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, Thomas Elliot & Bruce Wayne
Series: Activist Batman [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1927321
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. First Day of School

“Alfred?”

It was a nice summer day in July. Bruce hadn’t been doing much besides thinking and reading. He was often thinking. Alfred always called him thoughtful. Today he had been thinking about school. 

“Yes, Master Bruce?” Alfred set down the glass he was cleaning. 

Bruce stood up straighter and took a breath before speaking. “I want to go to a public school.” 

Alfred had an apprehensive look about him. It took him a few seconds to reply. “May I ask why?” 

Bruce had been thinking about this for most of the day. His answer should’ve come quickly. He suspected that his nervousness caused him to momentarily forget. “Um…” he said, thinking desperately. He could feel his eyebrows knit together. “I want to have...normal experiences. I think switching schools could give me that.”

The look on the butler’s face softened. “Are you sure about this?”

Bruce nodded. “Yes, I am.” 

“I will see to it then, Master Bruce.” 

Wearing jeans in a school setting was odd, Bruce had decided. Everything about his appearance felt weird. His shirt wasn’t tucked in, no tie in sight, he didn’t even have to button up his shirt this morning. He didn’t wear such casual clothes that frequently. He and Alfred had to go clothes shopping so Bruce would fit in better. 

Bruce thought about all these things as he opened his locker. There weren’t many people in the hallway, as he was there earlier than most, but he felt as if every single pair of eyes were on him. He kept his head low and put his bag inside his locker.

His shirt had an image of a rock band he liked. He was certain they were popular. He wouldn’t stand out for the shirt. At least, he hoped not. He was glad he didn’t take the cardigan Alfred had offered him. He didn’t know much about casual fashion, but he knew the cardigan wouldn’t go well with his outfit. 

Bruce shut his locker, equipped with a textbook and a notebook. He stared at the bottom of his locker. What was he to do? He had a while before his classes started. There was nothing to explore, as he had a full tour of the school beforehand. He glanced around the hall to see what others were doing. Most were sitting in front of their lockers, chatting, or working on things. Others were standing while they chatted. Bruce sat down in front of his locker, set his things in his lap, and opened up the book he had been reading. 

He didn’t notice how crowded the hall had got until fifteen minutes later. He looked up from his book and stood up. Sitting would be dangerous to those around him. He checked his watch, made sure he had everything before he headed to his first class. He was the first student there. Unsure if he should take a seat or not, he stood at the front of the class, starting an internal debate over his options. 

“You must be Bruce,” a female voice said. 

Bruce looked up to see a woman in front of him. The teacher, he guessed. “Yes, I am.”

She smiled kindly at him. “Take a seat anywhere. Class will start soon.” She moved to sit behind her desk.

Bruce nodded and moved his gaze across the classroom.  _ Anywhere?  _ He thought. He rarely got that option. He went toward the back and took a seat, setting his things down. 

He noticed a couple of things as people started to come in. The first being that most, if not all of the students were very tired looking. This wasn’t unusual; seven in the morning is an ungodly hour for most teenagers, private or public. The second was that the number of students wasn’t what he was used to. He counted 22 people. Before, his classes rarely made it to twenty. The room felt stuffed once class began. 

And when class started, their first task was to go around the room and tell the class about themselves. Bruce was sure this wouldn’t be too bad. They did this at the start of the school year at his previous schools. Twenty students spoke before it was his turn. He took a deep breath before standing. “My name is Bruce Wayne.” At that, people seemed to snap to attention, turning to look at him. He didn’t let all the sudden eyes on him hinder him. “I like science fiction novels, and my summer was… uneventful.” 

The teacher nodded to him and turned to the girl after him. “And you, dear?”

Bruce sat back down and ducked his head as he did in the hallway. People were still looking at him, some were whispering. 

_ Did he say “Wayne”? _

_ He looks so young.  _

_ How old is he? _

He did his best to tune them out.

The rest of his morning classes went more or less the same: He’d introduce himself to the class or say “Here” when the teacher called his name, people would look and whisper, then he’d stay silent for as long as he could. Surprisingly, people didn’t whisper about who he was, they whispered about his age. He couldn’t tell if this was a good or bad thing.

Bruce expected the remainder of his classes to go the same way. At lunch, he felt he could breathe a bit more. He was surrounded by a lot of people, but the table he sat at was empty. No one was looking at him. They were all too busy eating. 

He took out the lunch Alfred had made for him and began to eat. He studied the cafeteria as he bit into his sandwich.  _ Loud, _ he noted.  _ And… diverse, _ he realized with a start. He sat up straighter. His eyes ran across the many different skin tones he saw before him. 

It wasn’t the first time Bruce was in a place with such diversity. Quite honestly, he’d been in more diverse places. But never at school. Usually, the cafeteria was a sea of white. 

“Hey, you’re Bruce Wayne, aren’t you?”

Bruce blinked and looked up to see a boy around his age. He was also a person of color. “Uh, yes,” he answered. 

“Cool,” he smiled. “Do you mind if I sit here?” 

He shook his head, “No, I don’t.” 

The boy sat across from Bruce. “I’m Ethan Bennett,” he stuck his hand out across the table.

Bruce took it. “A pleasure to meet you, Ethan.”

Ethan retracted his hand and rubbed it with his other. “You’ve got a strong shake, man,” he said with a chuckle. “So what are you sitting alone for?” 

“I… didn’t have anyone to sit with.” 

“A kid like you doesn’t have anyone to sit with?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. 

“Surprised?” he inquired. 

“A little,” he shrugged. “You’d expect one of the Gotham rich boys to have people flocking around him.” 

Bruce glanced around the room again. “I’m assuming most people don’t know what I look like or they don’t know about me.”

“They’ll start to notice you in a few days.” Ethan took a bite of his food. “For now though, you’ve got me to sit with. If you’ll have me,” he said, looking back to him.

Bruce felt himself smile just a little. 

The rest of the day did go as he thought it would, though it was somehow more bearable. He told Alfred all about his day on the ride home. He kindly nodded along and offered some comforting words. 

“Have you made any new friends?” The butler asked.

“One. His name is Ethan.” 

“Well, it’s certainly a start. What’s the number of friends at now? Five?” He said teasingly. 

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Haha.”

“Is it what you expected it to be?” 

“Yes and no. It’s similar to a private school but more...loose?”

“Loose?”

“The rules aren’t as enforced and I heard a teacher swear as well as some students.”

“Oh, goodness, whatever will we do, Master Bruce.” 

He glared at Alfred and his straight face. He huffed and continued. “It was also a lot more diverse.”

“Mm,” he hummed. 

Bruce crossed his arms. His eyebrows knit together. He didn’t speak for the rest of the ride. 


	2. Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this until I had finished writing chapter three, but it's Batman Day. So, second chapter.

“How are you adjusting, Bruce?” 

“I’m learning fast, I think. It’s still really...different, though.”

“Must be a bit of a culture shock, hm?” Said Mrs. Cunningham. 

“More than a bit, I’d say.” 

“Do tell.” She crossed one leg over the other and readjusted her glasses.

Bruce began to rattle off his most prominent experiences with his new school. He talked about his new group of friends, how he’s being treated as if he were someone important and not just another student, how the age gap between him and the other juniors made him feel as if he didn’t fit in. He only made an effort to befriend freshmen because of this. Well, no real effort was made on his part. All of his new friends were introduced to him by Ethan.

“Do you want to make an effort of your own?”

“I...don’t know. I don’t really need to. I have enough friends.”

She gave him a small smile. “I’m glad you’re making friends. I know that’s difficult for you.”

Bruce nodded, “I’m glad too.”

“Because they’re different?”

“Yes. They’re not what I’m used to.”

She looked as if she were going to say something else, but stopped as her gaze fixed on a point. “You haven’t had any more of those kinds of thoughts and actions, have you?” 

Bruce looked at where she had her gaze and moved his hand from his right wrist. He hadn’t even noticed he was rubbing the scar. “No, I haven’t.” 

She nodded and wrote something down. 

Bruce stared at his scar. It was under the watch he always wore. Sometimes, he’d push it further up on his wrist to rub at the scar. He supposed it was an unconscious habit now. He looked back up at the woman across from him.

Mrs. Cunningham. His therapist for the last four years. Alfred insisted he get a therapist after he found him in the bathroom with a bloody blade. Bruce had refused before that. He was thankful he finally accepted.

Bruce took a deep steadying breath. “I want to help those less fortunate than I.”

She tilted her head. “Your culture shock brought this on, I assume.”

“There are so many cultural backgrounds at this new school. Different social classes, ethnicities, styles. My private school was dull compared to this.” He leaned forward in his chair, “And I’ve noticed that there are some truly gifted people there, but their education system is failing them. They’d do a lot better in a private school for that higher education. I want to give that to others.” 

Cunningham had an amused expression on her face. “...I don’t think I’ve heard you talk so passionately about something, Bruce.” Her smile was back and wider. 

Bruce didn’t let himself look away in embarrassment. The urge was strong, though. 

“And how do you want to give this to others?”

“I-I’m not sure. I haven’t given it much thought.”

“What are some familiar ways you’ve given to people before?” Her tone was a bit condescending, as if she were saying _ you  _ haven’t  _ figured it out yet? _

He really needed to fix this whole brain-dead-when-flustered thing. “Uh...Charity?” 

She beamed. “Bingo.” 

Bruce huffed. “I’m not aware of any charities that help with what I want.”

“And that leaves you to…”

“...Make one?” He guessed. “But how?”

“I’m sure you this won’t be hard for you. You’re very smart and you’ve got resources.”

“Hm.”

Ethan was right. They did start to notice Bruce soon. A handful of students came up to him every day. Most were fellow juniors and seniors, very few were freshmen or sophomores. Some of his classmates asked him how old he was, seemingly unaware of who he was, just curious. He couldn’t blame them. A fourteen-year-old junior wasn’t something you’d see often. That didn’t mean he was fine with it. It made him rather self-conscious, though he knew he had no reason to be. Being ahead of others should be something to be proud of. Yet, he still felt like the odd one out. 

His new friends didn’t make him feel that way. They made him feel like he fit in more than he did. It was nice. How he acquired these friends was beyond him, though. He guessed Ethan was the one to blame. They were all his friends first, after all.

Ethan introduced each one one at a time. First was Selina Kyle. 

_ Bruce was happily eating yet another Alfred-made meal, waiting for Ethan. It had been just them the first few days...and the others who would come up to them to question Gotham’s Orphan Boy. Ethan had told him he’d introduce him to others soon. He wondered what his other friends would be like. Would they be people of color too? Would they also be interested in law enforcement? What would they have in common? _

_ “‘Sup, Bruce.” _

Speak of the devil,  _ Bruce thought. He was met with the sight of Ethan and—another person of color. He couldn’t help but be excited. He smiled. “Ethan,” he nodded.  _

_ “This is Selina. She’s cool.”  _

_ They sat down as Bruce and Selina exchanged pleasantries.  _

_ Bruce didn’t fail to notice that she was sizing him up, studying him. _

_ “You’re a junior, right?” She asked. _

_ “Yeah, I am,” he confirmed. _

_ “So you’re smart?” She summed up. _

_ He chuckled, “I suppose I am.” _

_ “You’re also a Wayne?” _

_ “That I am.” _

_ She smirked, “This should be fun.” _

_ “Excited” wasn’t the right word now. _

And then there was Harleen Quinzel. 

_ A week after Bruce met Selina, he was faced with yet another of Ethan’s friends. She was white and blonde.  _

_ Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but the girl beat him to it.  _

_ She held out her hand and beamed. “Hi, I’m Harleen Quinzel, but you can call me Zel.” _

_ Bruce, an eyebrow cocked, shook her hand. “Bruce.” _

_ They sat down and Bruce was immediately subjected to a barrage of questions.  _

_ “What are some things you like? Do you know what you want to study in college? How did you meet Ethan? Did you skip grades? Do you like public school?” _

_ Bruce tried to answer all of them to the best of his ability. She obviously knew who he was but didn’t ask any questions about his parents or his status. It was nice, to an extent. He didn’t really like all the attention, but he didn’t stop her. She was only curious.  _

_ He left the lunchroom with what felt like his whole life laid bare for Zel, but all he learned about her is that she was cheery and curious.  _

A week later, Marty Ngyuen. 

“ _ I thought it was time you met a junior,” Ethan said, a new person in tow. “Must feel weird only having freshmen friends.” _

_ “Ethan told me you’re a junior too, but you’re fourteen. Is that true?”  _

_ “Yep.” _

_ “Wow.” He turned to Ethan, “So I heard…” _

_ And the rest of that lunch period, Bruce was filled in on all the hottest gossip of Gotham City High. It’s nice to be informed.  _

So, a month in, they had three new additions to their table. Bruce had three new friends. Despite coming from different backgrounds, being in different social classes, and being different ethnicities, they were friends. Bruce, of course, didn’t have a problem with this. He was very glad he could be among such different people. 

“Bruce? You good?” Came Ethan’s voice.

“Hm?” He blinked. “Uh, sorry. I’m fine. Lost in thought,” he smiled reassuringly.

Selina pointed to his plate, “Your pizza is gonna get cold.”

“Right.” Bruce began to eat. To center himself in the moment, he took a look at his surroundings. This was nothing like the restaurants he was used to. People were loud, there were games in the corner, there were overly Italian decorations, he could actually see the people beyond their table. Another loose place. 

“Do you like it?” Asked Zel. 

“The pizza or the place?”

“Both.”

“Oh, um...The pizza is good. I’m still deciding on the place.” 

“Can’t believe this is the first time you’ve been to a fast food place,” said Marty.

“We should take him to McDonald’s next,” Selina added.

Ethan grimaced, “No, we shouldn’t ruin him  _ that _ much.”

“We can at least get him the fries. I wonder if he’d like them,” chimed in Zel. 

“Or maybe a food truck? I heard about this good taco one down the street.” Marty jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. 

Something on his face must’ve given him away. 

“I think we’re overwhelming the little rich boy,” Selina chuckled. 

Marty laughed along. “We’ll have to corrupt him little by little.”

“Can we  _ not _ use words like ‘ruin’ and ‘corrupt’?” Bruce said a little timidly. 

They all laughed.  _ Jerks.  _

The next restaurant he found himself in was one he had been to many times before. It was a nice Italian place. He’d come here with friends and his parents and his friends’ parents. His friends would often invite him out and they’d have dinner together. This was the first time he’d have dinner with them after his switch.

“What’s Gotham High like, Bruce?” Thomas asked him once pleasantries and small talk had ceased. 

“It’s...a far cry from the Academy,” he gave a tight smile. 

“Why’d you want to go there anyway, Brucie?” Caroline said.

He shrugged. “I was curious.” 

“As they say, curiosity killed the cat,” said Caroline’s brother, Carson. 

The rest of the table shared a laugh.

“You should come back next semester, Bruce. We miss you.” Victoria seemed to mean that. He hoped she did. 

They all agreed on this and then they moved on to a different topic, no longer interested in Bruce’s experiences.

Bruce stayed silent for most of dinner after that. He was deep in thought, but no one noticed. 

After dinner, Bruce was outside waiting for Alfred to pick him up. 

“Bruce?” 

“Hm?” He turned to Thomas. 

“You  _ are  _ coming back next semester, right? Surely, it’s hard for you in that school.” 

Was his concern genuine?

“No, not really,” he shook his head. “Why would it be hard?”

“Well, I doubt they’re challenging you. I know you like a good one.” 

“Sure, it’s not  _ as _ challenging, but it’s definitely a challenge.” Bruce checked his watch again. 

“Okay, if you’re sure about it…”

Headlights appeared down the road as Alfred pulled up.

“Goodbye, Thomas,” he smiled and walked toward the car. 

“Bye, Bruce.” Bruce failed to notice the glare being sent his way. 

Bruce loved horror films. He liked the thrill, he liked the stupidity of the characters, he liked them because not many people did. When he expressed this to his friends, they decided on having a movie night at one of their houses. Bruce offered up the manor, as it had a home cinema. 

After the tour and after everyone was done marveling at the wonder that was the Wayne Manor, Bruce showed his friends the m

“That is...a big collection of horror, Bruce,” Ethan commented as he examined the shelf. 

“Are you sure you only  _ like _ these movies? This isn’t some obsession, is it?” Selina teased. 

Bruce ignored, pulled his favorite, and went to set it up. “We’re watching  _ Carrie,”  _ he announced. 

“Ooooh,” Zel clapped her hands and took a seat. 

Marty, face in his hands, muttered a muffled, “I should not have let you guys talk me into this.”

“Suck it up, Marty,” Selina patted his back. 

Bruce loved this movie. He did, but he couldn’t seem to focus on it. His gaze was drawn to Selina for most of the movie, watching for her reactions, studying her as she had studied him. He couldn’t deny that she was pretty. Very pretty, in fact. He had to stop himself from staring a lot of the time. 

Her looks weren’t all that Bruce liked about her. As he learned more and more about his friends, he saw how smart Selina was. She had a certain knowledge about life that Bruce had yet to learn. She could sweet-talk anyone into doing anything for her, get what she wanted just by blinking, it seemed. She was strong too. She didn’t take anything from anyone. It was inspiring really. If only she wasn’t so closed off. 

He supposed he couldn’t really talk, though. 

Still, he didn’t know much about her.

Before he knew it, the movie was over. Everyone was thoroughly scared and ready to leave the manor. Marty drove the girls home and Ethan was left to wait for his brother to pick him up. They talked about the movie while they waited. 

Soon enough, they heard the doorbell ring. They made their way to the foyer and Bruce opened the door. “H--” was all he could get out. 

“Hi,” said the man at the door. “You must be Bruce. I’m Elijah.” 

Bruce swallowed thickly. He nodded and opened the door wider to let Elijah in. 

“Gimme a minute, I need to put on my shoes,” Ethan said. 

Elijah took this time to look around. “You have a lovely home, Bruce.”

“Th-thanks.”

“Bet you wish you had a rich friend now,” Ethan stood up straight once his shoes were on. 

Elijah shook his head and sighed. “It was nice meeting you,” he said as he walked toward the door, Ethan behind him. “Goodnight,” they both called from the porch. 

All Bruce could do was smile and wave. Once he shut the door, he put his back to it. A heavy exhale escaped him.  _ That was... _ different, he thought. 


End file.
